


like caging the ocean

by lissome



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Fluff, M/M, i forced myself to write a smut scene, im in hell now thanks, louis gets his ass eaten, niall is in it for a split second, this barely has a plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-14
Updated: 2015-06-14
Packaged: 2018-04-04 07:42:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4130014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lissome/pseuds/lissome
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>"I'm saying that this is our second chance, and I’m not letting it go. I’m saying that it's gotta be you and me." His hand comes up, curves around Louis' cheek, warm and calloused. "I'm saying that it's never supposed to be anything but you and me." His other hand cups Louis' face. Louis can barely breathe.</i>
</p><p>Louis hasn't seen Harry in 10 years when something that smells suspiciously like Fate brings them together again, and what follows is just meant to be.</p><p>Also, the KFC colonel <i>isn't</i> the only guy Liam wants to bang.</p>
            </blockquote>





	like caging the ocean

**Author's Note:**

> sorry this is kinda rushed and sloppy lmfaoo I TRIED. this is for my gf, love u bub <3  
> and the title is taken from one of my all time favorite songs, luke sital-singh's bottled up tight

Louis is so hungry he could eat a cow.

"Liam, I'm so hungry I could eat a cow," he says. "Why the hell do you live so far."

"Did you really need to call me to tell me that?" Liam's voice crackles slightly over the phone.

"Rude."

"You've been calling me every ten minutes for no reason."

"Well, excuse me," Louis snipes. "It's a long, boring drive. What fun could I possibly have other than annoying you?"

"Have you tried keeping your eyes and full attention on the road?" 

"You're so boring. I'm turning around and going back to my mum's."

"No you're not. Anyway, judging by the fact that this is the…sixteenth time you've called me, you'll be here in like, fifteen minutes. So bye." 

The line goes dead. Louis waits exactly twelve minutes before calling him again. The line rings longer than usual, but it's not like Liam to ignore a phone call, so Louis just waits. True to form, Liam picks up on the sixth ring.

"I'm hanging up now."

"Aw, Liam, I waited twelve minutes this time, though."

Liam hangs up.

Louis decides that that warrants a Sharpie dick on Liam's leg tonight.

By the time he's decided which leg to draw it on and how long it should be, he's pulling up in front of Liam's building. He puts the car in park, swings his duffle bag over his shoulder, and uses the access key Liam had given him to get to the third floor. After exiting the elevator, he goes straight, makes a right, and then, for the first time in about three months, he knocks on Liam's door.

It opens a few moments later and, without so much as a hello, Louis flings himself at Liam. They go crashing to the ground, which is luckily carpet, causing enough of a commotion that Loki sprints over, barking excitedly and jumping all over both of them.

Louis giggles, rolling off of Liam and letting Loki paw his chest and lick his face. "Hi baby, didya miss me? Y'like me more than Liam, don't you? Don't worry, I like you more too."

"Please," Liam scoffs. He gets up off the carpet, brushing himself off, and then pulls Louis up off the ground and into a giant hug. "It's good to see you, Lou."

"You too, you big, fuzzy teddy bear." Louis squeezes Liam tight and rubs the shaved sides of his head. He's really missed Liam. "Even though you hung up on me."

"I don't know why I picked up your calls in the first place," Liam mutters, patting Louis' back one more time and then stepping away. Louis bats his eyelashes at him.

"Cuz you love me and wouldn't dream of ignoring me."

"I actually hate you. Our friendship is nothing but a long, complicated scam I've been running for five years."

"The only thing I have worth scamming is my ass."

"Okay, this conversation is stopping right now."

Louis slaps Liam's bum and picks up his duffel bag from the floor. "Where's the California King sized bed I requested before I got here?"

“There’s a small cot set up for you in the study room, if that’s what you mean.”

Louis sniffs, offended. "I'm too beautiful for the cot. Plus, it gives me allergies." He turns pleading eyes on Liam and counts to three. 

Like clockwork, Liam sighs and says, "Fine, you can have my bed. I'll take the cot."

"I love you." Louis smacks a kiss on Liam's cheek.

"Yeah, you better."

"Would you like to take me to lunch now, lover dearest?"

"I have just the place," Liam says. He jangles his car keys. "C'mon, put your stuff down and let's go."

Louis dumps his bag on the couch and follows Liam to his very sensible Honda hybrid. The smell--a mix of car and the Febreze thingies that Liam uses--is comfortingly familiar, as is the worn seat, when Louis gets in.

"So what's new, Scooby Doo?" Louis asks, toeing off his shoes and putting his bare feet up on the dash. "Clue me in to the wonders of the life of Liam Payne."

"I dunno, my days are pretty simple, mostly just going to the office and the gym and coming back home since I can’t leave Loki alone for too long," Liam says, head turned and brow furrowed as he backs the car out of the parking space. "Did you buckle up?"

"Yes," Louis lies. "That's it? Where's the romance, the glamour?"

"There's not much glamour to be had in a corporate office job. And as for romance…" He pauses, and Louis straightens up, gleefully poking Liam's chest.

"There's someone, isn't there?"

Liam has a weird look on his face when he mutters, "Not really."

Louis switches to poking Liam with his foot. "C'mon, c'mon, out with it."

Liam bats his foot away. "Stop that, I'm driving. You're a hazard." Louis brings his foot to Liam's face.

"Okay, okay, Jesus," Liam relents. "I'll tell you, now get your foot away, it smells like death."

Louis jabs his toe into Liam's cheek once more for good measure and then settles back into his seat, placing his foot back onto the dashboard.

"It's…not really anything," Liam starts hesitantly, looking uncomfortable.

"Bullshit," Louis scoffs. "You wouldn't bring it up if it were nothing."

"It’s really not a big deal," Liam insists. "Just…someone I met at the coffee shop, and they were nice and really cool. I dunno."

"And…?" Louis presses. "Did you ask her out?"

Liam looks even more uncomfortable. "No. Look, Lou, we're almost at the restaurant, can we talk about this later?"

Louis' about to prod more, but one glance at Liam's face tells him he shouldn't push it, so he says, "Fine. Don't think you're getting out of this, though."

They pull into the parking lot of this tiny, kind of dingy little diner. It's warm and homey and smells amazing inside, though, and Louis' stomach gives a frankly impressive rumble as he slides onto the ripped vinyl of a booth. Liam sits down opposite from him and hands him a menu. Everything sounds delicious; Louis has to restrain himself from ordering one of everything when the waitress comes by to take their order. He settles for the full English breakfast platter and a tea. Liam gets chicken with a side of mash.

"Remember when you made that stupid tweet?" Louis says. "About not being gay but you would totally bang the KFC guy?"

"I was expressing my love for their chicken," Liam defends. "It was a hyper bowl."

"…You mean hyperbole?"

Liam rolls his eyes. "Whatever. I'm gonna go wash my hands."

"Is that a hyper bowl too? Make sure you don't fall into the _toilet_ bowl."

Louis cackles as Liam stands up and knocks Louis' head none too gently before heading to the bathroom.

It isn’t long before the waitress shows up bearing plates laden with heavenly-smelling food, and Louis' stomach roars again. He digs in the instant she places his plate in front of him, burning his tongue a little but not even caring because it's so good. He might even moan a little.

Liam reappears a few moments later, takes one look at Louis, and shakes his head.

“Shut up, Liam,” Louis mumbles through a mouthful of half-chewed food.

“I didn’t even say anything!”

“I could see it in your eyes, don’t question me.”

Liam, clearly having no defense to that, sits back down, only to frown and stand up again. He bends and plucks something from the floor under the table. "Huh. Someone dropped their driver's license here."

Louis, back to stuffing his face, makes a vague noise in reply.

"I'll go give it to the waitress. The guy'll definitely come looking for it."

"Wait," Louis says suddenly, putting down his fork, and he doesn't know what possesses him to do it, but he leans over the table and snatches the card from Liam's hand. He turns it over and nearly chokes.

In fact, he does choke, seeing as he has a mass of half-chewed sausage and egg in his mouth. Liam rushes over and slaps his back as Louis coughs furiously, eyes watering and throat burning. Once his coughing has somewhat subsided, he scans the license again, unable to believe his eyes.

"This is Harry Styles," he says slowly.

Liam's eyebrows fly up. "Your childhood best mate? The guy you snogged when you were twelve?"

"The very one." Louis studies the card closer. "Wow, he got hot."

"When's the last time you even talked to him?"

Louis wrinkles his forehead. "Like, seven years ago? He left me a message on Facebook on my sixteenth birthday."

"Wow."

"Yeah, we used to text and call each other every once in a while, but we just drifted apart, I guess." Louis snorts bitterly. Harry had been pretty much the only reason he didn't want to leave Holmes Chapel.

"This is so crazy. Oh my god, Lou," Liam says. His eyes are practically sparkling. "This is more than a coincidence. You have to go meet him."

Louis frowns. "I dunno. It'd be pretty awkward." 

"Louis. Listen to me. What are the chances that on the exact day that you visit me, and we go to this exact diner, where his exact driver's license is on the floor at the exact table that we sit at?"

"I don't think you needed that second-to-last 'exact.'"

Liam ignores this and takes the license from him. "Look, he lives on Newvine, that's barely fifteen minutes away from my place. Just go to his later and give him his license back."

Louis picks up his fork again and takes a bite so he doesn't have to answer.

Liam squeezes his wrist encouragingly. "Come on. It'll be good for you two to reconnect."

Louis hums noncommittally. 

"There's nothing to lose, Lou. You wanna think about the pros and cons? I think I have a pen somewhere, hold on--"

"Oh, god, stop right there, Liam. No pros and cons lists. I'll do it."

Liam beams at him. "It'll be great, Lou, you'll see. You've nothing to worry about."

\--

Louis is very worried about it.

There's no way around it. He's worried and he’s nervous about seeing the person who was his best friend for the majority of his childhood and pre-teen years.

He's sitting in his parked car outside of Harry Styles' house, trying to pep talk himself past this. He rarely ever gets nervous, especially not when meeting people. And anyways, Harry might not even remember him. That thought sends a different feeling running through his chest, and he quickly shakes it out of his mind.

After a solid five minutes of sitting outside, he takes a deep breath, holds it for three seconds, then exhales. He does it four more times, then unbuckles his seatbelt and opens the car door.

Outside, the sun is starting to set, an orange slice of light cutting its way across the front of Harry's house. It's a cute place, small and surrounded by foliage. Louis figures it must be the Styles family home, seeing as Harry is 21 now and should be in uni. He wonders what he's studying. Harry always used to say he wanted to be a lawyer or a businessman or a baker. Ambitious, he was.

Steeling himself once more, Louis hesitates and then rings the doorbell.

It seems like centuries before the door opens, time in which Louis briefly panics and considers turning around and running back, or maybe he's got the wrong house, and then suddenly, Harry Styles is standing in front of him, after ten years. He's tall, and his hair is long and brown and curly, and he's even hotter in person, and Louis can't speak.

"Hi. May I help you?" Harry asks politely, looking Louis over.

Louis opens his mouth. "I--"

Harry's eyes widen as shocked recognition spills over his entire face. "Oh my god. Louis? Louis Tomlinson?"

So he does remember him. Louis offers a small smile. "Harry Styles."

"You…What are you doing here?"

Louis quirks an eyebrow, some of the tension draining out of him. "I don't see you for ten years, and that's the kind of welcome you give me?"

"Sorry," Harry bumbles, looking flustered. "I didn't mean--"

"Relax and let me in," Louis laughs. Harry, his face a bit pink, steps back and opens the door wider so Louis can step in.

"To answer your question," Louis says while Harry closes and locks the door, "you dropped this." He holds up the driver's license.

Harry takes it from him, surprise coloring his face. "Where'd you find this? I didn't even realize I'd lost it."

"Bobby's Diner. It was on the floor under one of the tables."

"And you found it? That's…pretty crazy."

Louis snorts. "That's exactly what Liam said." At Harry's questioning look, he explains, "My mate. I'm visiting him here for a while since it's summer and school's out. We live pretty far apart, so I don't get to see him very often." 

"So you've been here before?"

"Just twice. Liam moved here for a job about a year and a half ago."

"Huh. I came here for uni three years ago. How weird is it that we might've seen each other at some point and not known it?"

"Very weird." Louis suddenly notices how quiet the rest of the house is. "Your family isn't here with you?"

"Nah, they're still in Holmes Chapel. They got me this place for uni; it was definitely better than the dorms."

Louis had forgotten how loaded Harry's family was. Of course they bought him a house. "Speaking of uni, what're you studying?"

Harry gives a small chuckle. "I'm...not studying anything, really. I mean, I was studying Sociology for a bit, but I kinda decided uni wasn't for me so I dropped out last year to pursue my real passion."

"Which is…?"

"I do freelance photography."

Louis whistles. "Wow. That's pretty different from a lawyer or a businessman."

"Yeah," Harry laughs. "I had bigger dreams as a kid."

Louis grins at him, and it's easy. Talking to Harry, being with Harry, is easy. He doesn't know why he was ever nervous.

"So what about you?" Harry asks. "What's been going on? It's been so long."

Louis shrugs. "Not much. High school sucked, then I went to theatre school, graduated, and I teach a couple of drama classes now. Nothing too special, I'm afraid."

"You always were the dramatic type," Harry says, grinning. "Remember when I ate the lolly you wanted and you threw a fit and didn't talk to me for a day?"

"How could I forget. I had my sights set on that red one. You committed a grave crime that day."

"Is it too late to ask for forgiveness?"

"I'll consider it."

They just stand there and smile at each other for a second, until the moment is broken by a succession of loud beeps.

"Oops," Harry apologizes. "That'll be the veggie lasagna, sorry, I'll be right back."

"That's okay, I should probably get going, anyway. I didn't mean to interrupt your dinner or anything." 

"Oh, no, of course you didn't. I mean, you could stay for dinner," Harry offers, and the look of hopefulness on his face physically pains Louis. He's so, so tempted, but he can't ditch Liam on his first day here.

"I really should go back to Liam's," Louis says apologetically. "Rain check?"

Disappointment flashes across Harry's face, but he quickly puts on a smile. "I'll hold you to that."

Louis smiles back and gives Harry's bicep a friendly squeeze. "Definitely."

Harry walks him to the door, where they linger for a moment longer.

"Thanks for bringing me my license."

"Don't worry about it. Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Louis."

Louis is nearly halfway down the driveway before he hears Harry shouting, "Lou! Wait!"

He stops and turns back around; Harry's running after him, flip flops slapping against the concrete. He comes to a stop in front of Louis and dangles his phone in his face. "Forgot to get your number."

"You know, I do know where you live," Louis points out as he programs his number into the phone. He adds a billion emojis to his contact name.

"That knowledge only provides you with stalking access, it doesn't give me a way to contact you."

"True enough," Louis concedes, handing Harry's phone back. "Call me, yeah?"

"Of course."

Louis salutes him and then heads back down the driveway again to his car. When he looks back, Harry's gone, but his phone vibrates soon after with a text from an unknown number.

_I burned my lasagna._

Louis smiles and hits the gas.

\--

"Don't say 'I told you so,'" Louis says the moment he lets himself in at Liam's. Liam is sitting on the couch, phone in one hand, carton of takeout in the other, and he doesn't even look up as Louis plops down next to him and steals a chip. 

"Got you pizza," he says, gesturing to the box on the coffee table, "and I'm assuming things went well with Harry?"

"He got so hot, Liam, you would not believe," Louis tells him, draping himself over Liam's lap and snagging a slice of pizza. It's still warm, a string of cheese dangling down and hitting his chin. "But yeah, it went alright."

Liam finally looks up from his phone, raising his eyebrows gleefully. "See? I told--"

Louis stuffs a chip into Liam's mouth. "Shut it and tell me about your secret lover like you promised."

"We're not lovers," Liam grumbles, attention back on his phone. His fingers tap rapidly at the screen.

"Who're you texting?" Louis demands. "Are they more important than me?" He twists around to try and see the phone screen, but Liam pulls it away from him, covering it with his hand.

"Oh my god," Louis says. "You're texting your mystery lover right now, aren't you?"

"Shut up, he's not my lover," Liam says, flushing, and then his eyes widen as Louis stares at him.

"He?"

"Fuck," Liam says, covering his face with his hands.

"Oh my god," Louis says.

"I know," Liam says.

"Oh my god," Louis says, again.

"I know."

"So the KFC guy isn't the only guy you wanna bang. I'm scandalized. My entire life is a lie."

Liam frowns at him. "This is serious, Lou."

Louis sighs exasperatedly. It is mildly surprising news, but straight people--well, people who've always thought they were straight--always blow these things out of proportion. It's time to whip Liam's ass into shape. "So you like him, so what?"

Liam gapes at him. "So? I've never fancied another bloke before!"

"You've always been very vocal about David Beckham," Louis points out. "Anyway, I get that it must be weird, yeah? But sexuality is a spectrum and all that, so if you fancy him, then just go along with it, that's what I say."

"You make it sound so simple," Liam sighs, letting his head fall back against the couch. Louis shrugs.

"Gay crises are overrated. You're probably not even full gay, anyway, so chill out and live a little. And by live a little, I mean fuck some hot guys. Life’s too short to stress about things like this."

"You know what," Liam says slowly, "you're right." He sounds astonished at himself for admitting this, but he continues, "I've been agonizing over this for weeks now, and I'm tired of it. I should just go for it."

"That's the spirit, Payno," Louis says, clapping him on the shoulder and leaving tomato sauce on his t-shirt. "Now tell me all about him so I can determine whether I approve of him or not."

"His name's Zayn. He's an English major in his last year at uni. He likes art and comics and he looks like a hipster or something, but he's like, really geeky? It's cute. And he's got these really pretty eyes, his eyelashes are incredible. I mean, the rest of him is incredible too, he straight up looks like a supermodel. He also does graffiti, how cool is that?"

Louis hums, tapping his finger against his chin in consideration. "I suppose he’s acceptable."

Liam's phone buzzes then, and before Liam can reach for it, Louis snatches it up and reads the text flashing on the lock screen.

**zayn malik x :)**  
_arnie jst pissd on me aha_

"Ew," Louis says, dropping the phone in Liam's lap as if it were on fire. "What kind of sexting is this?"

Liam glares at him before texting a reply. "Arnie is his pet lizard."

"If he's into watersports _and_ bestiality, then it's a no from me."

Liam throws a chip at his head. He misses by a long shot; Louis snags it back up and hits Liam square on the forehead and then picks up another piece of pizza. “So are you going to ask him out or what?”

“I dunno,” Liam says. He looks up at Louis. “Are you going to ask out Harry?”

“What? Why would I do that?” Louis asks, genuinely surprised. Liam lifts his eyebrows.

“Uh, because seventy five percent of what you said about him is about how hot he is.”

“He is, but like, I mean that from an objective point of view, Christ, I’m not about to try to hop on my ex-best friend’s dick.”

Liam shrugs and returns to his phone. “Alright, if you say so.”

Louis glowers at the side of Liam’s head. “I hope you choke on Zayn’s artsy, Starbucks-scented dick.”

“Holy shit. He has a _penis._ ” Liam's eyes are wide, as if this thought has never crossed his mind before.

Louis is not going to deal with this. “That he does, and maybe you’ll get to touch it. But I’m off to bed.” He chucks his pizza crust into Liam’s lap and goes into the bathroom to brush his teeth. When he’s done, he steps back into the kitchen to grab a glass of water only to see Liam standing there staring at a banana.

“Jesus Christ,” Louis mutters, turning back around and going straight to Liam’s bedroom.

It’s been a long day, and driving for over three hours has really taken its toll on Louis, so he wastes no time in getting into the bed and switching the light off. Lying there in the darkness, alone with the silence, he lets his thoughts run to Harry. The last thing he thinks before he drops off into sleep is that he hopes Harry will call.

\--

Harry calls Louis the very next morning. He wakes him up with his call, in fact.

"Hey," he greets when Louis picks up, sounding entirely too chipper for nine in the morning on a Saturday. "Are you free today?"

Louis yawns, mumbles something incoherent, and hangs up before promptly falling back asleep.

It's only two hours later, while he's in the shower, that Louis remembers this and scrambles to call Harry back, nearly slipping and breaking his neck in the process.

“Hello?”

“Don’t ever call me before twelve on a weekend. Or any day, in fact.”

Harry chuckles, low and soft. “Sorry, my bad.”

“You gonna make it up to me?”

“Duh. Let’s grab lunch?”

“I’ll meet you at yours in thirty." Louis hangs up without saying goodbye, because that’s just what he does, and makes his way out of the bathroom and into Liam's bedroom. Rummaging through his duffel bag, the contents of which are a complete wreck, he manages to find clean underwear, a t-shirt, and his favorite pair of denim shorts.

Liam’s in the living room playing with Loki when Louis emerges, fully dressed and hair styled. He takes one look at Louis and asks, “Hanging out with Harry?”

“Yep,” Louis says. At Liam’s expression, he adds, “It’s not a date.”

“Have fun,” is all Liam says as Louis opens the front door. Louis flips him off.

When he pulls up in front of Harry’s house, only fifteen minutes late, Harry is already waiting outside, dressed in a sheer shirt nearly half unbuttoned and tight, black jeans. Louis feels a little faint upon seeing all the tattoos lining his arms and chest.

The impression is pretty much ruined when Harry gets into Louis’ car and the first thing he says is, “Did you know that cows can sleep standing up?” Louis squints at him.

“No, but I do now.”

“Cows are cool,” Harry informs him, slipping a pair of Ray-Bans over his eyes. “Where are we going?”

“You tell me, I don’t live here.”

Harry thinks for a moment, then claps his hands together loudly. “I’ve got it. Just follow my directions; it’ll be a surprise.”

As it turns out, following Harry’s directions gets them lost not one, not two, but three times.

“You live here,” Louis says, completely at a loss, as Harry finally gets them onto the right street. “You literally live here.”

“I usually bike, so yeah.”

“It’s the 21st century. We have GPS.”

“Getting lost is its own form of beauty. You never know what you might find,” Harry says serenely.

“You’re about to find my foot in your ass,” Louis mutters.

“Take the next right,” Harry directs, ignoring Louis.

Finally, they roll to a stop in front of...well, Louis doesn’t quite know what it is, just that it looks nothing like a restaurant.

“Uh,” he says. “What is this.”

“It’s a farmer’s market,” Harry says brightly, stepping out of the car.

Louis stares at him. “This is like, veggies and shit. This isn’t lunch.”

“Of course it is. It’s healthy and organic.” He catches the look on Louis’ face and laughs. “Relax, this isn’t technically our lunch. C’mon.”

Louis follows him to an area behind the various displays of fruit and veg where there are a number of food stalls lined up and a scattering of picnic tables. A combination of different smells hangs heavy in the air, making Louis' stomach rumble. Before he can begin bitching, though, Harry gestures with his arms wide open.

"Take your pick," he says grandly, as if he were on some game show. Louis cannot believe how lame he is. Then again, he did like Ant-man as a kid.

Louis picks the stall that has the least number of baffling menu items such as quinoa and kale. He gets corn on the cob, fresh squeezed orange juice, and a chicken avocado sandwich that Harry swears is delicious. It's the healthiest thing he's ever bought in his life. Harry, meanwhile, has a giant salad and something green in a cup. Louis stares at the cup.

"What the unholy hell is that?"

"Kale, spinach, and mango smoothie," Harry says. "With a splash of soymilk."

"So you're eating a bowl of leaves and drinking a cup of mashed up leaves. That's disgusting."

Harry frowns disapprovingly at him. "Heeeey. It's good for you."

"I'm not sure I've ever eaten a salad in my entire life."

"I'm concerned for you."

They sit down at a table at the end of the row of stalls, where the trees provide shade. Louis bites into his sandwich and is surprised to find that it is, in fact, delicious. He can't let Harry know that, of course, so when Harry asks how it tastes, he sniffs and says, "It's acceptable. We're getting burgers next time, though."

"Sure," Harry agrees, spearing a forkful of salad.

They fall into easy conversation after that, bantering and bringing up old memories and updating each other on their lives. As nice as it is to catch up with Harry, though, it also sends a pang through Louis' chest; it's a reminder of how much Louis' missed, of how they're not the same anymore and never will be because of those ten years spanning between them like an ocean. Fuck, even though they stumbled back into each other's lives yesterday, he's only now just realized how much he's _missed_ Harry, in a way that he hasn't in years. They'd promised to stay in touch, is the thing. They'd clung to each other and swore that they would call each other or write each other. And for a while, they had. And then they hadn't, and that was that, and Louis eventually managed to push that hurt into the back of his mind.

Now, though, watching the way Harry's dimples deepen when he laughs, so familiar yet a stranger, it's as if that wound opens right back up, and Louis' never been good at holding back, so he interrupts Harry and says, "Why did you stop talking to me?"

Harry looks at him, caught off guard. His brow furrows. "Huh?"

"We promised," Louis says, pushing a piece of bread crust around his plate, hating how small his voice sounds. "But you stopped calling."

"Shit, Lou," Harry breathes, voice heavy. "I'm sorry, I didn't--I just--I just missed you too much. I guess I thought it'd be easier."

"Well, you thought wrong," Louis snaps. Harry flinches, his entire face falling, and Louis hates that he still can't stand the sight of Harry looking sad. He exhales loudly. "Sorry. It's not really your fault."

Harry still looks sad, and all of a sudden, Louis wants nothing more than to hug him and stroke his curls like he used to whenever Harry needed comforting. "I'm sorry, Lou. I really didn't want to hurt you, I swear. I just…felt like I didn't really have a place in your life any more, I guess."

"How do you think I felt?" Louis asks. There's no bite to it.

"I know," Harry says miserably. "I'm so sorry, Lou, I don't know what else to say. It was selfish of me."

Louis shrugs, most of his hurt-induced anger draining out of him as quickly as it had come. He's suddenly exhausted. "You were a kid. We both were."

Harry's expression is dangerously wobbly. Louis can't stop himself from reaching over and running his thumb over Harry's wrist. "Hey," he says quietly. "It's okay. I didn't mean to get so upset. What matters is that we're here now, yeah?"

Harry gives him a watery smile. "Yeah."

Louis squeezes his wrist. "Ready to get out of here?" Harry nods.

The ride back to Harry's house is quiet. It's not tense or uncomfortable, it's just…quiet. Louis puts Harry's address into his phone's GPS and they get back there in half the time it took earlier.

Louis pulls into the driveway and cuts the engine. Harry doesn't get out. He looks at Louis with those big doe eyes and says, "Do you want to come in?"

Of course, Louis says yes.

They end up on the couch, watching a really bad romcom on Netflix and making snarky comments. Halfway through, Harry turns to Louis and, face all serious, asks, "Are we good?"

Louis looks at him. He's not angry with him, not anymore; the hurt still gnaws vaguely, but it's fading by the second as he takes in how genuine Harry seems.

"Yeah, we're good," he says. Relief crashes over Harry's face like a tidal wave--he's always been such an open book--and then he's hugging Louis, warm and smelling of citrus. Louis instinctively hugs him back.

"I'm glad we can be friends again," Harry says, voice slightly muffled by Louis' shoulder.

"Me too, Haz," Louis says quietly, holding onto Harry and thinking that none of that other shit in the past matters, not when he's got this in his present.

\--

It's dinnertime when Louis gets back to Liam's apartment, bearing a container full of pasta and a small bag of homemade chocolate chip cookies that Harry had given him after they were done hugging it out.

"Honey, I'm home," Louis calls, kicking the door open. Loki comes bouncing up to him, sniffing at the bag and rubbing up against his legs. Louis reaches down to scratch his head with his free hand. He's about to call out to Liam again when he sees the lump on the couch. Liam is passed out, snoring lightly, a blanket tangled around his legs and his laptop half open on the coffee table.

Louis knows an opportunity when he sees one. Setting the food down on the dining table, he quickly rummages in a drawer for a Sharpie. As luck would have it, he finds a thick, chisel-tipped one. He crouches over Liam's sleeping form and masterfully draws a dick along the entire length of his calf. Satisfied, he leans back to admire his work. He thinks the linework is particularly good.

He snaps a picture on his phone and sends it to Liam nine times before clapping loudly in Liam's face. Liam jolts awake and promptly tumbles off the couch.

"Fuck you," Liam groans while Louis doubles over laughing.

"Don't be fucking rude, Liam, I brought you dinner."

“I don’t care, I hate you.”

Louis shrugs and goes into the kitchen. “More food for me.”

The pasta is fucking delicious. Not that Liam would know, because he can’t have any. Louis takes the whole container and eats out of it, and whenever Liam tries to get a forkful, he slaps his hand away. Liam eventually gives up and eats leftover pizza.

Louis’ not completely evil, though, so he finishes the pasta and allows Liam a cookie.

"Fuck, this is so good," Liam remarks upon the first bite of the cookie.

"So was the pasta," Louis says. "Oh wait."

Liam tries to glower at him, but obviously has difficulty keeping it up when he's under the spell of chewy chocolatey goodness. 

Louis lets him have another cookie.

\--

Louis hangs out with Harry pretty much every day for the next week, and they rekindle their close friendship so quickly that it's as if they never stopped. In that time frame, Liam meets Harry, too, and the two of them get on really well. So well, in fact, that Louis tries to avoid them seeing each other as much as possible.

It's a totally normal, platonic thing to do.

It's also totally normal and platonic that they have plans for dinner and a movie on Friday night.

"It's not a date," he tells Liam before he leaves, but he's beginning to sound unconvincing even to himself.

They don't go anywhere fancy for dinner (Harry knows better than to take Louis anywhere expensive and high-end), just a small Italian restaurant whose owner Harry is good friends with. They each order something different and spend a majority of the meal stealing from each other's plates. 

After that, there’s a brief squabble over which movie to see; Louis gets his way, of course. As soon as the lights dim, it’s as if Louis is hyper-aware of Harry’s presence, of every movement he makes. He can feel Harry looking at him multiple times throughout the whole movie. It makes him nervous, so he pretends not to notice, training his eyes forward on the screen. Their elbows keep touching on the armrest between their seats.

The whole thing leaves Louis jittery and on edge, warring with his thoughts. This definitely feels like a date. Is it a date? Does Harry think it's a date? Should he say something?

Ultimately, however, the movie ends and Louis just drives Harry back as usual, the things he wants to say stuck in the back of his throat. He swallows them down and gives Harry's curls an affectionate ruffle.

"See you tomorrow?" Harry had asked Louis to go to the shops with him. (Harry had sold his Range Rover in an effort to 'shrink his carbon footprint' so Louis pretty much takes him everywhere. With anyone else Louis would've thought they were using him for rides, but it's Harry, so.)

"Yep." Harry hesitates for a second, and when Louis looks at him, he's staring at Louis, his expression strange.

Louis laughs nervously. "Something on my face?"

Harry blinks rapidly, as if shaking himself out of a trance, and casts his eyes down. "Sorry. Goodnight, Louis." He clambers out of the car before Louis can say anything.

Louis waits until Harry gets to the front door before leaving. The entire drive back, he grips the steering wheel too tightly and forces himself to not think too hard.

Fortunately, he's instantly distracted when he walks down the hallway of Liam's floor and turns the corner to see a skinny, tattooed guy in ripped jeans kissing Liam in front of the apartment door. Barely suppressing a shriek at this development, Louis ducks back around the corner, whips out his phone, and snaps about ten pictures before walking calmly over to them and loudly clearing his throat.

Liam jumps away from the guy as if electrocuted. His face is as red as a tomato.

“Lou,” he says, mouth flopping like a fish. “I, uh, you, um. Uhhhhh. I thought you were at Harry’s."

Louis completely ignores him in favor of running a scrutinizing eye over the guy who can’t be anyone but Zayn. Liam was wrong; he doesn’t look like a supermodel, he looks like some demigod cast to earth. Louis would be almost intimidated if it weren't for the way Zayn’s ducking his head right now, clearly embarrassed.

“Well, well, well,” Louis says, grinning at Zayn. “If it isn’t the mysterious Zayn Malik in the flesh.”

“Louis,” Liam says exasperatedly.

"You must be Louis," Zayn says, coolly looking Louis up and down. It's a fantastic shade look. Louis likes him already.

"The one and only." Louis sticks his hand out with a grin. Zayn just looks at it for a second, as if it's a trick of some sort, before shaking it.

"Right, then," Louis says cheerily. "Now that that's over with, hurt Liam and I'll personally dismember your body, preserve the parts, paint them, and use them for Christmas decorations, yeah?" He pats both Zayn and Liam on the bum and then lets himself into the apartment, shutting the door behind him. 

He sits on the couch, crosses his legs, turns the lamp off, and waits.

A couple minutes later, the door opens, and Louis can see Liam silhouetted by the hallway lights. He switches the lamp on with a dramatic flourish. “So.”

“So,” Liam says, shutting and locking the door and sitting next to Louis on the couch. He’s trying to play it cool, but he can’t hide the smile stretching his lips.

“Did you dick him yet? Or did he dick you?”

“No, Louis, there hasn’t been any dicking, why is that the first thing you ask?”

“Because I like fucking with you and seeing that little crease between your eyebrows--ah, there it is.”

“He asked me out on a date,” Liam says hurriedly, as if he can’t hold it back any longer. He’s blushing again. It’s sickeningly cute.

“Aww,” Louis coos. “You’ve got yourself a proper boyfriend.”

Liam blushes harder, fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. “I really like him.”

Deciding Liam looks too happy for further teasing, Louis grabs Liam’s hands and squeezes them. “I’m happy for you, mate.”

Liam grins at him. “Thanks. And thanks for, er, giving Zayn that warning, I guess. Even though it was creepily specific.”

“Please. That wasn’t even the best one I’ve got.”

"I'm sure. So how'd it go with Harry?"

"I think it was a date," Louis admits. Liam gives him a look like he can't believe how thickheaded Louis is.

"It 100% was a date. So was the time you went over to his house and he cooked dinner for you, and the time you went to the beach together, and the time you went go-karting."

"Shit," Louis says. 

"Yup."

"Ughhhh," Louis groans, flopping onto Liam. "I don't want to think about this right now. My head hurts."

Liam rubs his head sympathetically. “It’ll work itself out, Lou.”

Louis shuts his eyes and hopes with all his heart that Liam’s right.

\--

As it turns out, the only things Harry wants at the shops are some new headscarves. Louis cannot believe him.

“I can’t believe I’m about to be compliant to this,” Louis grouses as Harry browses through the racks of equally bright and hideous scraps of fabric.

"I like this one." Harry, clearly not listening to him, shows him a leopard-print one.

"That's so ugly."

"This one?"

"Ugly."

"Okay, this one."

"Astonishingly ugly."

"What about this one?"

"You really want my opinion?"

"Yeah."

"It's fucking ugly."

Harry buys all of them. Louis can't wait to burn them while Harry sleeps.

He wanders off to the bathroom while the cashier is ringing Harry up. When he gets back, Harry's standing by the entrance of the store, and some guy is talking to him, leaning too close. Harry looks uncomfortable. 

A hot surge of anger rushes through Louis. He goes up and rests his hand on the small of Harry's back, giving the guy an icy look. "Haz, everything okay?"

The guy's eyes dart between the two of them and then he mutters, "Whatever," and shuffles off. Louis stares daggers at him until he's out of sight.

"Thanks," Harry says. Louis looks at him and shrugs. Harry looks like he's about to say something else, but he just closes his mouth and presses his lips together. "Wanna head back?"

"Sure."

Harry's unusually quiet on the way back, mostly looking out the window. He's still silent when Louis pulls up in front of his house and puts the car in park.

"Well," Louis says, a little awkwardly, "see you, then?"

"Lou," Harry says. 

"Yeah?"

Harry turns to look at him for the first time since they left the mall. He looks…nervous. "I have something to tell you.”

“Okay.” Louis' heart is nearly beating out of his chest with nerves.

“I was offered a really great photography gig."

Louis blinks, caught completely off guard. "Uh, that's great, Haz."

"It's in California. It's a six week stint."

Louis' stomach drops. He doesn't say anything; he can't.

"Louis," and Harry's voice is pleading now, tinged with desperation, "I need to know that you'll still be here. After, I mean. I need to know that we're still going to be okay."

"Yeah, I…yeah."

"I'm not leaving you," Harry says, quiet. It’s sort of a strange thing to say, but it has Louis swallowing, his chest constricting.

"I know."

Harry looks at him. Louis looks at his shirt, picking at a loose thread. "My flight leaves tomorrow morning."

"Oh."

"I'm sorry."

Louis looks up at that, frowning. "Hey, you've got nothing to be sorry for, yeah? This is a brilliant opportunity. I'm happy for you." He forces a smile. "Anyway, what's six weeks compared to ten years?"

Harry smiles back. It’s sad and small. "I'll miss you."

"Me too."

Harry hesitates, and then leans over and kisses Louis' cheek. "G'night, Lou. I’ll talk to you tomorrow."

Louis watches silently as Harry climbs out of the car and into his house, the door opening and closing. He doesn't know how long he sits there before he starts the engine and goes back.

\--

Harry’s been gone for two weeks, and now that Louis spends a lot more time at Liam’s apartment, it’s like Zayn is there 24/7. It annoys the hell out of Louis, even though he really likes Zayn.

One night, he comes back from Tesco and Zayn and Liam are cuddled up on the couch together playing video games. It’s nothing new, but Louis can’t stop himself from sniping, “Don’t you have your own place, Zayn?”

Both of them turn to look at him, and then exchange glances with each other, which only serves to make Louis even more angry.

“Lou--” Liam says, warningly, at the same time that Zayn says, “Look, bro--”

“Whatever.” Louis rolls his eyes and walks past them and into Liam’s room, slamming the door shut behind him. Turning off the lights and rolling into the bed, he pulls out his phone. Harry hasn’t texted him back yet. He stuffs the phone under his pillow and throws his arm over his eyes, trying to calm the blood pounding in his head and missing Harry so much it hurts.

The door clicks open. “Lou?” It’s Liam, his voice hesitant. Louis doesn’t answer, pretending to be asleep.

“Louis, I know you’re not sleeping.” Louis stays silent. Liam heaves a sigh.

“If you don’t wanna talk about it, it’s fine. I just wanted to see if you’re okay. Talk to me when you’re ready, yeah?”

Louis still doesn’t reply.

“Well, g’night then.” Louis hears him heading for the door.

"I think I love him,” Louis says, quiet and small.

Liam’s footsteps stop. He doesn’t say anything, just walks back over, rests his hand on Louis’ shoulder, and squeezes. 

\--

The weeks pass by, and Louis…is okay. He still misses Harry as steadily as a river flows and he still gets in pissy moods sometimes, but he hangs out with Liam and Zayn and Zayn's best friend, Niall, and he's okay. He's never believed in depending on someone else for his happiness and he won’t start now.

He and Harry talk pretty much every day, whether it's on the phone or through text. Both of them very carefully avoid talking about what's between them. It's not the right time.

The summer's already drawing to a close, much too soon for Louis' liking. Harry's absence only serves to make that fact loom more heavily over him; by the time Harry gets back, Louis only has less than a week before he has to return home and start preparing for the school year.

Louis’ scared. He doesn’t want Harry to fade away like the summer, doesn’t want what’s bloomed between them to wither when he leaves. _I’m not leaving you_ , Harry had said, and Louis clings onto those words as best as he can. 

Finally, the day comes where Harry’s due to arrive home. Louis is a mess all day, unable to do anything except pace around the apartment and check the time. He’s supposed to pick Harry up at the airport at seven PM. Google Maps had told him it was a 47 minute trip to the airport with current traffic, so at 5:50, Louis is out the door.

He’s jumpy the whole way there, getting irritated at any driver who so much as slightly slows him down. The traffic at the airport is a nightmare, as usual, and Louis very nearly bangs his head on the steering wheel in frustration as the cars inch forward and he fights to merge into the lane he needs to be in.

At long last, Louis spots the terminal Harry will be at and pulls up along the curb. Harry’s not there yet, and even though he shouldn’t, Louis gets out of the car and leans against it while he searches for Harry. About five minutes pass, and then Louis sees the unmissable pattern of Harry’s shirt in the distance.

"Harry!" he shouts, not caring about the startled looks he gets from passersby. Harry sees him and beams so wide his dimples look like craters, and it feels like a piece of Louis clicks back into place.

Harry starts running, nearly tripping over his luggage twice, until he comes crashing into Louis, sweeping him into his arms and squeezing. Louis wraps his arms around Harry and holds on, breathing him in and feeling so happy he’s about to burst. It’s a long moment before they break apart, and there’s another long moment where they look at each other and just smile. Harry leans forward, and for a split second Louis thinks he’s going to kiss him. But Harry just runs a hand through Louis’ hair and whispers, “Take me home, Lou.”

On the way back, Harry fills the car with tales of California and the project with a magazine that he’d worked on. Louis pays more attention to the slow cadence of Harry’s voice rather than what he has to say, and he gets honked at twice when the traffic lights turn green because he’s too busy looking at Harry. The drive passes quickly this way, Louis so easily caught up in Harry.

It’s dark when they arrive at Harry’s house. Louis helps Harry get his suitcase from the trunk of the car and walks him to the door. Harry puts the key into the lock, but instead of turning it, he turns to look at Louis. Standing there in the night air, dimly illuminated by the yellow glow of the porch light, something changes. Louis feels it in his skin, his bones, the way Harry’s eyes flicker from his mouth and back. They’re standing far closer together than usual. Louis swallows.

He means to say something--he doesn’t know what, exactly--but when he opens his mouth, all that comes out is, “Harry.”

It seems to be enough, though, because Harry’s looking at him now with this intensity in his eyes that makes Louis’ blood boil. He smells like recycled air and flowers. A smile tugs at the corners of his lips.

“Remember when we were kids, and we kissed?”

Louis chuckles, a little breathlessly. “Yeah. Bloody awful kisser, I was.”

Harry hums. "Wasn't too bad."

"Thanks."

"Don't you think," Harry says softly, stepping closer, "that we were brought together again for a reason?"

Louis swallows, his throat suddenly dry, unable to tear his eyes away from Harry's gaze. "What're you saying?"

Harry's close enough now that Louis can feel the heat coming from his body. "I'm saying that this is our second chance, and I’m not letting it go. I’m saying that it's gotta be you and me." His hand comes up, curves around Louis' cheek, warm and calloused. "I'm saying that it's never supposed to be anything but you and me." His other hand cups Louis' face. Louis can barely breathe. "I'm saying that there wasn't a day in the past six weeks that I didn't think about you, and if you don't mind, I'd like to kiss you now, because I've waited long enough."

"Yeah," Louis breathes. His entire body feels like it's on fire, and his mind seems to be processing things ten times slower, a stark contrast to the rapid thrumming of his heart. "Yeah, okay."

Harry smiles sweetly at him, his entire face soft with affection, before dipping down and closing the miniscule distance between them.

Kissing Harry at 23 is nothing like kissing Harry at 12. Harry's hands are huge and impossibly warm against his face, cradling Louis gently as he works his mouth with Louis', his lips plush and slightly chapped. He tastes like yogurt and something crisp and clean. Louis loops his arms around Harry's waist as they continue to kiss, thumbing at the exposed skin above his waistline. It's all incredibly sweet and gentle and nothing like what Louis is used to.

Harry presses his lips against Louis' once more before fluttering soft kisses on Louis' jaw, his cheek, his nose, and pulling back slightly. He doesn't let go of Louis' face.

"You're so beautiful," he murmurs. Louis flushes all the way to his toes.

"You are too," Louis tells him. He runs his hand through Harry's curls, barely hesitates before saying, "You're right. It's always been meant to be you and me."

The smile that breaks across Harry's face is blinding. He pulls Louis to him, kisses him again.

"Go out with me?" Louis mumbles against Harry's lips.

Harry presses "yes" into Louis' mouth over and over.

\--

The following week flies by in a whirlwind of activity. There are a lot of dates, some of which are with Liam and Zayn, and there are decisions and plans made. 

On Louis’ last day there, Liam, Zayn, and Niall all see him off. They crowd around him in the driveway and smother him with hugs, Louis promising he’ll see them all soon. 

Then, he gets into the car, starts the engine, and turns to smile at Harry in the passenger seat. “Ready?”

Harry smiles back and reaches over to tangle his fingers with Louis’. “Yeah.”

\--

Like with most things with them, their first time just _happens._

It's been two weeks since Harry has settled into Louis' flat, and they've been curled up in bed together in their underwear for the majority of the day, marathoning Gossip Girl. They haven't had a relaxing day like this in a while since Harry's been occupied with several photography gigs (a direct result of doing really impressively at the job in California) and has been driving all over the place (much to the dismay of his carbon footprint), and Louis has been busy with the start of the school year. Louis is curled into Harry, his head resting on his shoulder, when Harry's hand lands on his upper thigh. Louis freezes and glances up at Harry; his eyes are still watching the screen, but he's chewing his lip. His hand is hot and heavy against Louis' bare skin. 

It slides up even higher, past the hem of his boxers, and Louis bites back a breathy exhale. Harry's other hand slides up Louis' shirt, tracing circles on the soft planes of his stomach, sweeping over his nipples. Louis lets this continue for approximately another thirty seconds before he can't take it anymore and rasps, "Fucking kiss me already."

In a split second, Harry's on top of Louis, dragging their mouths together, one hand sliding into Louis' hair and the other pushing up the hem of his shirt. Louis makes a low noise that's quickly swallowed by Harry's mouth. Harry kisses him like he's starved for it, like he can't bear to be apart from Louis' lips. Louis gives as good as he gets, burying his hands in Harry's hair, sucking Harry's plush lower lip, dipping his tongue into Harry's mouth. Then, he's pushing with his body until he flips them over and he's straddling Harry. Harry's hands slide down to cup his ass and Louis moans, grinding down against him and bending to suck kisses into his neck and collarbone.

"Fuck," Harry breathes, tilting his head back to give Louis better access. Louis sinks his teeth in and Harry's entire body shudders, his hips thrusting up and bringing their crotches together, drawing moans from both of them. Louis detaches his lips from Harry's neck and sits up to strip his shirt off in one smooth movement.

Beneath him, Harry already looks wrecked. His face is flushed, his eyes glassy and his pupils so blown that his irises look nearly black. Louis is going to destroy him.

He plucks at the waistband of Harry's tiny boxer shorts. "Off." Harry swallows audibly, his eyes never leaving Louis' as he shimmies out of the garment. Louis sucks in a breath at the sight, dragging his fingers down Harry’s stomach and over his dick. Harry’s eyes fall shut and a moan cascades from his open mouth.

“What do you want?” Louis whispers hotly, keeping his fingers moving. “Tell me, baby.”

Harry sucks in a breath. “I wanna touch you.”

“Yeah?” Louis says, squeezing Harry’s dick, unable to get enough of the look that crosses Harry’s face.

“Yes, please.”

Louis drops a filthy kiss to Harry’s lips. “Your wish is my command.”

He climbs off of Harry and lays himself out on the bed, watching as Harry shifts and puts his hands on either side of Louis’ head so that he’s bracketing Louis. He lowers himself until their bodies are pressed together, and then kisses Louis sweetly on the mouth before turning his attention elsewhere.

He dots soft kisses on the gentle swell of Louis' stomach, on his hipbones, all over the sensitive insides of his thighs, until Louis' shaky and breathless and whining, "Haz, please--" and then Harry's pressing a kiss to the tip of his dick and taking it into his mouth.

Louis arches his back and clutches the sheets, letting out high-pitched noises on every other exhale. Harry’s mouth feels amazing, and he’s doing something maddening with his tongue, and Louis is already so wound up that he can feel himself getting close, so he tugs on Harry’s hair until Harry pulls his mouth off and looks questioningly at Louis.

“Not yet,” Louis gasps. “I wanna ride you.”

“Fuck,” Harry says, voice scratchy. He crushes their lips together and then pulls away and moves down Louis’ body again, sliding his hands under Louis’ ass and kissing his belly button. “Turn over.”

Louis has never obeyed something faster. Harry’s hands envelop his cheeks, and then Harry’s breath is hot against his skin, and then his tongue is on Louis and Louis nearly passes out.

Harry has this way of focusing on someone when he talks to them, devoting his full attention to their conversation. That same intensity translates into the way he's licking at Louis now, as if nothing else matters except the task at hand. It's hot as fuck and it drives Louis crazy, making him writhe against the sheets and let broken cries spill unfiltered from his mouth. He's always loud during sex, especially when he's getting eaten out, but this is on another level. Aliens can probably hear him right now.

And then Harry sticks his tongue and a finger in at the same time, and Louis very nearly makes a window shatter.

Harry's barely started opening him up before Louis grabs Harry’s face, tells him, “I’m ready,” pulls him up and kisses him. Harry fumbles in the bedside drawer and pulls out a condom and lube, tearing open the foil packet with his teeth. Louis is going to die. Swiftly rolling the condom on, Harry squirts a good amount of lube into his hand and rubs his fingers over Louis’ hole again. Louis is seriously going to die, and Harry’s dick is the only thing that can save him.

Harry’s hands come up to grip his waist while Louis slowly sinks down onto Harry, relishing the feeling of it.

“You feel so good,” Harry breathes. “Fuck, baby, you don’t even know.”

Louis can only groan, taking a few moments longer to adjust before he starts to move. He goes up and down, faster and faster as Harry’s dick hits the perfect spot. Just as he gets to the point where he thinks he’ll cry with how good it feels, Harry strokes him once, twice, and he’s coming, gasping and burying his face into Harry’s neck. Harry follows almost immediately after, his hips snapping up, nails digging into Louis’ back as he shakes through his orgasm.

They don’t move for a good few minutes afterward, pressed together. Louis is collapsed on top of Harry, feeling boneless and very content. Eventually, though, being covered in bodily fluids gets uncomfortable, and Harry rolls out from under Louis to grab them a wet towel and clean them up. When he’s done, he switches off the light and pulls the covers over both of them.

“That was so good,” Louis mumbles, laying his hand on Harry’s chest.

Harry laughs. “It was more than good.”

“Mm. For once, you’re right.”

Harry just kisses him.

They lay there in the darkness for a bit, listening to each other breathe.

"You know," Harry says, breaking the silence, "I used to have the biggest crush on you."

Louis snorts into his pillow. "And you don't now?"

He can't see Harry, but he knows Harry's rolling his eyes. "It's different now. Anyway, when we were kids, I always thought you were so…cool. Like, I looked up to you so much, and hanging out with you was so different from hanging out with anyone else. I adored you." He laughs. "I used to tell my mum that I'd marry you one day."

"How embarrassing," Louis teases, but he's smiling. Harry pinches his bum in retaliation, which makes Louis lick his nose, which makes Harry lick Louis' entire face, which results in both of them thrashing around on the bed trying to tickle each other. This ends in a stalemate--Harry has a size advantage, but Louis' more nimble and quick--and they settle back down under the blanket, slightly out of breath. They're quiet for a moment.

"You know what's weird?" Harry whispers.

"Hm?"

"I always had this feeling that we'd meet again. Like, I knew I wouldn't go the rest of my life without you coming back into it somehow."

"Yeah?" Louis feels warm all over.

"Yeah. And I was right."

Louis doesn’t say anything, just affectionately licks Harry's nose again, and, for good measure, kisses him too. After a few more lazy kisses, he can tell Harry's starting to drift off--his ability to fall asleep in five seconds at any given time or place is decidedly unnatural--so he tucks himself into the curve of Harry's body, his head cradled in the crook of Harry's neck.

"Night, love," he whispers.

"Night," Harry mumbles, barely coherent, pressing himself closer to Louis. "Lou?"

"Yeah?"

"I'll still marry you one day." And then he passes out, leaving Louis to bury his head in the pillow and try to swallow the way his heart has filled his throat.

\--

"I love you," Harry says, one month, two weeks, and six days after they begin dating.

Louis nearly drops his box of tea, right in the middle of Tesco. He looks at Harry, at his messy curls pushed back with a only moderately hideous headband, at his ratty sweats, at his honest, beautiful face, and even though this isn't how he had expected this particular conversation to go, he really can't care about anything else. Because it’s Harry, and it’s him, and it’ll always be.

"I love you too," he tells Harry, and then stretches up and kisses him, right next to the dairy aisle with shoppers milling all around them.

He figures it's meant to be.


End file.
